Skaia's Lullaby
by TheAwesomeFaeriesWillGetYou
Summary: On the outskirts of the great country Skaia, there lies a lush forest, rich with magick and lore. Through the middle of the forest Sburb, runs a wide river, named The Heir of Blood. The Heir of Blood River was named for a great sacrifice made by two lovers in a battle long since forgotten by the inhabitants of Skaia.


Disclaimer: Homestuck and everything in it belongs to Lord Hussie…If I owned Homestuck, John would be a homosexual.

On the outskirts of the great country Skaia, there lies a lush forest, rich with magick and lore. Through the middle of the forest Sburb, runs a wide river, named The Heir of Blood. The Heir of Blood River was named for a great sacrifice made by two lovers in a battle long since forgotten by the inhabitants of Skaia. For Skaia, although peaceful now, was not always this way. Long ago, during the times of Knights, and when Magick flowed through every living being, the two species of Skaia were at war; the Trolls of the Kingdom Derse, and the Humans of the Kingdom Prospit. This war had been going on for centuries. The Ancient Ones had decreed a long time before, when the war had just begun, that each side was to have a Great Warrior fighting for them, and when even one side did not have a Warrior, the battles were to cease until a Warrior was found. It is said, that every Warrior died, but never, were both Warriors killed in the same battle. For when both died at the same time, the war was over. Despite such a simple solution, the hate on each side was too great, and neither could think of anything but coming out victorious over the other.

It is during these times that our story begins. The War had ceased long before when the Human Warrior had fallen to the Trolls, with the Troll Warrior dying of natural causes many years after. Now the War was to be brought up again. The Human King had been found to have slept with the Troll Queen, and she had bore a child by him. The child had been labeled an outcast and a pariah by Troll society. The poor grub had human genes, which was an abomination in the eyes of the Kingdom of Derse. It was sixteen years later, on the thirteenth of May, when The Ancient Ones chose the newest Warriors for each side. For Trolls, their social class system was different from the Humans, in the sense that they measured power and status by blood colour. Due to this system, everyone believed that a Highblood Troll was to be chosen as a Warrior. The main choice was a Highblood Troll by the name of Gamzee Makara, who had rich purple blood. The Queen stood in front of her subjects, her bastard child at the age of sixteen, by her side. As the winds picked up around the Marketplace, all eyes turned to Gamzee, hopeful to see the symbol over his head. However, when the wind died down and no symbol had appeared, the crowd grew restless. Until one Troll happened to look upon the Queen's child. Uproar began immediately, as they gazed upon the symbol above the boy's head. Karkat Vantas, bastard child of the Human King and Troll Queen, with the lowest status blood, coloured deep red, had been chosen as the Trolls Great Warrior, the Knight of Blood.

On the outskirts of the forest Sburb, on the Human side, was a small shack, home to a young peasant boy. This shack, whose door is being banged on by a young knight eager to wake his best friend. When no answer was given, the knight kicked in the door, shaking the house as he did. His footsteps echoed slightly as he walked down the small hallway. Stopping to brush his blonde hair out of his face, he noticed how eerily quiet it was, and finally spoke up.

"John? This better not be one of your pranks, because today is an important day, and I came all this way just to get you. You better appreciate what I do for you." The young knight peeked into the room to his left, sighing when he found no one. He searched the whole house, starting to get just a little worried when he found no sign of his friend. Suddenly, a noise right outside had him turning around to a very confused looking messy black haired boy.

"Dave Strider? What are you doing here?" The boy, John, stood in his doorway, holding a bundle of firewood. Dave barely smirked, and crossed the threshold to take the wood from his friend's arms and dump it all on the ground.

"Egbert, I'm taking you with me to see who our Great Warrior will be. You need to get out of this house, and what better time than to see us Humans find the Warrior to beat those Trolls for good." Dave nodded to accentuate his own sentence, before taking John by the wrist, and dragging him out of the shack toward the grand palace where the ceremony always took place. Neither John nor Dave had been alive to ever see a Warrior being chosen, it being John's sixteenth birthday and Dave already being sixteen. Despite his cool outer exterior, John could tell, that Dave was just as excited as he was to see what would happen. It was said that the wind would pick up the chosen Warrior and place them in the middle of the palace courtyard for all to see. As they got closer to the large crowd, they could see villagers and nobles alike, craning their heads to get a better vantage point to see. The wind had picked up as they'd made their way through the crowd. Suddenly, John found himself being lifted off the ground, and flown through the air, landing softly on his feet in the exact place he'd just been looking at; the palace courtyard.

A collective gasp ran through the crowd at the sight of such a young boy being chosen. He could see Dave's face, panic-stricken instead of the usual mask of indifference he put up. The King and Queen of Prospit slowly walked down to stand on either side of them. The Queen smiled kindly down at him, before facing the crowd.

"My wonderful people, I give you The Heir of Breath!" She placed a hand on his shoulder, nudging him forward slightly. "Please speak your name, young one."

John nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself,

"My name is John Egbert, your Warrior."


End file.
